Beginnings
by lightsenshi
Summary: The first generation of Claymores proved to be cut from a different cloth than their later counterparts. Through an accident or deliberately, they would seem more human and be viewed as heroes rather than monsters. Updated: 02/11/2013
1. Chapter 1

**Prelude**

Through an accident in the process that is used to fuse the Yoma parts to the human flesh that creates a Claymore, the very first generation proved to be both far stronger and much more prone to Awakening. With over a hundred Claymores produced in that very first generation, they proved to be more than a match for the Yoma that prowled the land. It still is not known where exactly the first Yoma came from, it took barely ten years of hard fought battles before the Organization produced the hybrid hunters that would later be referred to as Claymores.

By the end of the second year of service, nearly half of the first generation had awakened. Later records would show that only two Claymores were actually killed in battle against Yoma. Investigation would determine that both hunters were set upon by surprise and vastly superior numbers. Even ambushed, each warrior would lay low over fifty Yoma before being finally overwhelmed.

The majority of the first generation would be male hunters, seventy two names are recorded as male in the Chronicles of the Organization. Thirty six women were also successfully able to become hunters as well, but only one of their number would rank in the top five and only two in the top ten. Final tally some ten years after the second generation entered service would record of the first generation as two dead, two missing, and the remainder having transformed into Awakened Beings.

Only the ranked number four and number five, recorded as Hagan and Isyllia would be recorded as missing. It would take the Organization nearly a century before they were able to successfully locate the pair, their Black Robe Azmear having successfully managed to hide them so well. Their discovery by the Black Robe Ermita is believed to have been accidental and the pair subsequent return to service in time for the destruction of the army of the Creature of the Abyss of the North (lead by the Awakened Beings who had been the first and second ranked Claymores in the very same generation) during the aborted Invasion of Peita.

The Invasion of Peita some century and a decade after the first year of service was the beginning of the end for the Organization. Records, again taken from documents uncovered from the Organization, indicate that there were a total of sixteen generations of Claymores. It would be only the very last Claymore: recorded as Claire ranked 47 would measure up to the standard that had been hoped to be duplicated in the strength of that first born of Claymores.

The following three transcripts are the result of laborious research and effort to reproduce the early lives of the Claymores Hagan and Isyllia. This brother and sister pair would eventually lead the effort that would sweep the Yoma finally and irrevocably from the land yet would also bring about the end of the Organization that had created them.

** Father Vincent, 15 ACE (After Common Era)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Amor Vincit Omnia**

_First Waltz_

A soft rustling of leaves as they chased each other across the dirt, urged on by the gentle blowing of a wind that carried a hint of cold to it. A cold that warned of winter's soon arrival and nature's stillness that was soon to be drawn forth. The leaves skirted a nearby tree, it's branches still dotted here and there with a late harvest of apples as red as the early morning dawn.

A soft metallic clanking of echoed footfalls shifted into the still morning, and the leaves seemed almost to pause before gliding both right and left out of the way of the dull gleaming limbs. Their owners paused, seeming as if by some instinct or habit to face slightly away from each other. One stood a step before the other, or perhaps the other waited a step behind the first.

The winter wind danced around the pair, lifting the half cape that each wore just enough to make it billow ever so slightly. A creak of leather could be heard as one of the pair shifted weight from one leg to the other but no other sound seemed to resonate from them. The stillness lasted for several heartbeats before the first of the pair, the one that stood forward of the other, reached upward and with efficient movements plucked a brace of nearly over ripened apples from the branches of the tree that the pair stood under.

The two wore similar yet not quite identical seeming clothing, perhaps a uniform or simply a choice made by the pair to dress alike. Dressed in stark white leather from head to knee, for from the knee down was protected by a boot made of what appeared to be polished steel. But not the stark whiteness of their clothing nor the metallic tinge of their foot covers were what drew one's eyes. First to draw a passer by's attention was the sword that each carried sheathed at the shoulder, the blade nearly as long as the owner who carried it. Only the hilt could be easily seen, as it was wrapped in some sort of soft blue colored fiber.

The whisper softness of leather could again be heard as the first shifted a gloved hand toward the second, releasing the red orb in the direction of the second. The gloved hand of the second, snatched the spheroid from the air with ease, lifting it to lips nearly as red as the fruit that was drawn to it. A soft crunch as a single bite was exorcised from the morsel and care was taken to ingest, as if to savor the tasty morsel.

The second was clearly a woman, with hair as silver as the light which reflected off of a lake which lay half a day journey behind them. The wind stirred the silver locks ever so slightly, lifting then returning them to rest between her shoulder blades. It went no further below, and eyes as silver as the hair which crowned her head seemed to miss nothing, scanning every leaf and speck of grass before them. A darkened piece of cloth seemed to be fastened at the neck and seemed to serve as ornamentation, curved so that it was barely large enough to display the strange image it bore upon it. It was of two lines running up and down next to each other and set slightly apart with a third line passing through the center of both yet drawn out on each side as well.

Her companion, with equally silver eyes but yet with hair cut so short that it barely passed the ears in length, passed the second apple from right hand to left then lifted the fruit to partake a bite of it. Her companion was a male, dressed in the same manner as her, but yet with the sword sheathed upon his left shoulder rather than his right. The darkened cloth about his neck bore a symbol of a backwards letter "C" with a second "C" joined at the middle, creating a simple yet elegant image.

They were an odd seeming pair, waiting in this most unusual of places. But the world had a name for them, a name that was not their own: Claymore.

The woman turned toward her companion as he spoke to her, his melodious voice breaking into the harmony of the early morning placidity. She was a beauty in both form and face, with full red lips and eyelashes just long enough to be appealing. Her companion was of comparable quality, possessing a grace and strength that belied the not quite and no longer humanity.

"It's not like him to be late." His voice was of a soft baritone, soothing and whisper quiet.

"He would not be late without a good reason." She seemed to be reminding her companion of something known only between the two of them.

The first gave a barely perceptible nod, taking another bite from the apple that he still held in his left hand. Both seemed content to let the silence be broken only by the soft crunching sounds as they consumed their breakfast.

It was the male who seemed to finish first, stopping when the apple was barely more than half eaten. He weighed the sphere he held for several seconds before tossing it up and slightly outward from himself. His left hand flashed to the hilt of the sword he wore, his movements clearly divining the no longer human nature he possessed. The sword flashed into motion, only the glimmer of light catching off of the huge blade as he neatly dissected the half eaten fruit into over a dozen fragments in less time that it took for one to blink. Before the sections could land on the bare ground at his feet, the sword had already been returned to the place it had been drawn from with a soft hiss and a subtle clinking sound as it settled into place.

The woman tossed her own half eaten apple off to the side, where a rabbit hopped from the undergrowth long enough to sniff at it before disappearing into whatever concealment it had appeared from. She appeared to barely take notice of her companion's action, as if such a test was normal for him.

Without a sound, a dark robed figure seemed to step out from the same underbrush that the rabbit had disappeared into. Dressed entirely in black and with a scarf wrapped around his mouth to block out the early morning cold. A deep cowl masked the rest of the head, leaving only a set of dark goggles covering the eyes. A shuffle of footsteps and the figure stepped around the same tree that the two had been waiting under to stand before them.

The figure pushed back the hood of the black robes that concealed the body and removed the scarf from his face, revealing sharply male features beneath. He tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe as if the slight wind was discomforting to him.

"You never did like the cold, Azmear." The woman spoke to the new arrival as one would greet a long time acquaintance. Her voice danced on the edge of a light soprano, yet there was only a hint of warmth to it nonetheless.

"Fortunately, this will be your last hunt before the winter calm." The one called Azmear replied. To the rest of the world, and to the pair before him, he was a Black Robe. A messenger, envoy, watcher, and spy all rolled into one. "And it is good to see you too, Isyllia."

The woman inclined her head toward Azmear, favoring him with a faint smile. It seemed tinged with a genuine warmth, remaining only several heartbeats before disappearing. "It will be good to be home again."

Azmear looked toward Isyllia's companion, giving him a nod which the other returned. "You look well, Hagan." He said in greeting, drawing the others attention to him.

"As do you, Azmear." The male Claymore replied, glancing away then tilting his head as if listening to something.

The Black Robe's gaze seemed to settle on the male hunter, as if evaluating the other by some unknown standard or measure. Silence seemed to linger for a dozen heartbeats and even as Azmear opened his mouth to speak again, Hagan's right hand shot upward toward the other to gesture for silence. Azmear complied without protest, tucking his chin into the invisible warmth of his scarf.

In that instant, a transformation took place. Both pairs of eyes flashed from silver to gold, something that only occurred when the enemy they had been created to hunt was near.

Yoma.

Before another breath could be taken, Hagan seemed to vanish from sight, leaving the sudden rushing of air and the sharp ringing of his sword hanging in the air behind him. Isyllia followed after her companion, stepping in what must have been the same direction that he had traveled. Dutifully, Azmear followed the woman who was his charge.

A clearly inhuman scream of agony was abruptly cut short nearby. It took Azmear several hurried seconds to cross the distance that Hagan had traveled in only an instant. Isyllia had remained several steps before him and when he arrived Azmear found that Hagan had neatly decapitated the yoma. A flick of the wrist cleared the sword of purple stain upon it before disappearing into the customary resting place.

"How many?" Hagan asked after Azmear's attention drifted away from the corpse at his feet. It wasn't difficult for any of them to determine why the two hunters had been called to this place.

"I have reason to believe that there are over a dozen yoma hiding in the nearby village." Azmear returned his hands into his sleeves. "Word reached the Organization early last week and you two are the closest. As such, I was to go send you." The black robes rose then fell in a small shrug. The goggles drifted from one face to the other, drawing a shake of the head from both. "Very well, I'll see you in a couple of weeks." The Black Robe turned and walked away with the same eerie silence that he'd arrived, leaving the two to their duties.

* * *

A small fire had been built in the hearth, yet it's warmth was unnoticed by the gathered crowd of men and women who filled what one took to be a small inn. Tables and chairs had be set in a haphazard arrangement in one corner, with the singular exception of a small dining table and a single chair. A soft murmur seemed to hang in the air, as if the reason for the gathering had yet to be determined. Or perhaps it was just a general unease. The occupant of the chair was a man, his shoulders slumped even as he sat as if he carried a weight about with him constantly. A burden that remained unseen but was present nonetheless.

A man near the front leaned over and banged a closed fist on the table, stilling the conversation in the room and drawing all attention to him. "Two more people were found dead last night. Butchered, like animals." The man seated at the table grew grim and drew back slightly from the table toward the invisible safety of the wall behind him. Something must have made him as afraid as the others appeared to be. "How much longer must we suffer under this plague? Will we all be killed before they leave?"

The man in the chair leaned back forward in the silence that followed, folding his slightly trembling hands together as if in prayer. It was a long moment before he finally spoke in the silence filled only with the soft sound of the fire crackling. "I feel that we have no choice," he began quietly, his eyes fixed on his clasped hands. "I've sent for 'them', the only ones who can rid of us of this curse."

"Them? Them who?" A man near the middle of the crowd demanded.

"Claymore." He looked up from his clasped hands and scanned the front row of the crowd. "I felt that I had to do something." His eyes finished scanning then returned to his hands. "And that meant calling upon a Claymore."

The murmuring of the crowd redoubled what it had been before the impromptu meeting started, filling the air with more questions and no real answers. The conversation halted abruptly as the twin doors at the front of the room banged open and a young man no older than ten stood in the doorway. "They're here: The Claymores." He panted.

* * *

It was easy for the two hunters to tell when they'd entered the village that they'd been sent to cleanse, for a crowd began to gather around them. It was hard to miss the looks of both awe and hope on the faces of the villagers as they huddled close yet dared not to touch, lest they dispel some sort of magic that seemed to follow a Claymore wherever he or she went.

The two hunters walked with an unnatural grace and fluidity, seeming to do more than stroll but rather glide from place to place. As if they were ghosts or some sort of supernatural presence, making the threat of the yoma nearby fade into insignificance of these most lethal yet most human of predators. Yet it was only yoma who feared these predators so, outdrawn and overmatched as they were. No Claymore desired to harm the humans who were their wards and their mentors both.

"It is a very lovely village." Isyllia said quietly to her partner, so quietly in fact that someone standing more than a few feet away would have had to strain their ears to make out what she'd just said. It would have surprised no one to know that the vixenous beauty was already searching out the yoma that were their prey.

Hagan nodded minutely in agreement, again a motion barely perceptible to the humans around him but obvious enough to his companion. As always, he walked at her side, close enough to touch yet not close enough to accidentally bump against her. Not that such a bump would be accidental, given the enhanced nature of their abilities.

The crowd began to part, drawing away from them as they drew closer to a small cluster of people who seemed to be awaiting them. The two Claymores adjusted their path until they drew near to the small cluster, coming to a stop just outside of their reach. The man in the front of the small cluster of people had been nervously wringing his hands at their approach, clenching both hands into a ball before him. He roughly cleared his throat as if to speak.

Yet before he could do so, something both miraculous yet quite ordinary happened. Two pairs of silver eyes flashed to gold and one of the hunters moved with inhuman swiftness. Her sword rang loudly as she nearly dissected the individual standing next to the man who would yet identify himself as the mayor of this village. She sprang past, purple icor splashing the cobblestones beneath their feet; yet before the two halves of the yoma's body could collapse, she'd already moved onward. Leaping high into the air, she cleared the heads of the gathered crowd, landing with a grace that a feline would envy before closing on what her senses told her was also a yoma in disguise.

The target of her pursuit barely had time to turn to run before the unbreakable blade of her sword neatly sheered his head from the rest of his body with a second but not nearly as impressive spray of purple. Her body was motionless, the huge sword still fully outstretched at the end of the swing, and stained with the same purple that puddled on the cobblestones. The head of the now revealed yoma seemed to hang in the air for a slow heartbeat before suddenly landing with a wet sounding splat. The second yoma's body landed in an untidy heap, partially curled up in a ball as it found it's final resting place.

The other Claymore had remained motionless aside from reaching up to clasp his sword hilt at the same instant that his companion sprang into action. His hand returned to his side only when the second yoma was fully dealt with, as several of the gathered villagers applauded hesitantly at the display of prowess that they'd just seen. With exaggerated slowness, Isyllia flickered her wrist to clear her blade of yoma blood before returning it to the customary place across her back. The crowd parted as she walked back to where her companion still stood, nodding in acknowledgment to several people who reached out to touch her arm.

The man who had been about to speak stared at the neatly dissected yoma body next to him, having been spared from being splashed with so much as a drop of the purple icor now pooling the depressions in the cobblestone pavement beneath his feet. Hagan cleared his throat to draw the man's attention away from the body next to him and back to the Claymore that stood before him. The man's brown eyes jerked back upward, filled with a combination of awe and fear at what had just happened, to meet the silver eyes of the hunter before him.

"My name is Hagan and my companion is Isyllia." The male Claymore introduced himself then gestured to his companion who had returned to his side only that instant. Rankings would have meant nothing to anyone not in the Organization so he didn't give them. He gave a small smile which lingered as he continued to speak. "We are the ones that have been sent to cleanse your village."

"Cleanse, right." The man cleared his throat then offered his hand with a bit of hesitation to the two before him. "Welcome to Dalmor, my name is Vincent. I'm the mayor." The mayor's eyes returned to the yoma body next to him for a moment.

The male Claymore took his hand and shook it, the small smile fading slowly from his expression. Wearing his normal calm expression, Hagan waited for the mayor to continue. Isyllia stood patiently next to him, with no yoma nearby there was nothing pressing for either of them to do. The two simply waited for the conversation to continue, as this was hardly the first time that they'd been in a similar situation.

The mayor's eyes returned to the two Claymore before him and he gestured hesitantly for them to follow him. "If you'll follow me..." For whatever reason, he chose to lapse into silence rather than continue. Perhaps the presence of a yoma so close to him had unnerved him for he recalled that the very body next to him had been the same person who'd demanded so vehemently that something be done.

The two Claymores followed the mayor to the inn nearby, finding the room nearly cleared except for a table near the front with a chair behind it. The mayor settled into the chair, clasping his hands together before him. He looked up at the two before him and began speaking again. "We're grateful that you've come," he began. As he continued to speak, he seemed to regain his composure. "I've already assembled the fee for your services and I've prepared a room on the second floor that you can use during your stay. If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."

Hagan inclined his head gracefully, offering a smile of thanks. "A man in black will come to collect the fee once we've completed our work. We're not allowed to collect the fee ourselves." Isyllia shifted her weight from one leg to the other as he paused before continuing. Hagan looked toward her out of the corner of his eye but found her as unreadable as ever. "As for the room, we'll gladly accept your hospitality. We'll need to take a look around your village before we can fully accept your gracious offer, but a small meal of bread and cheese would certainly be appreciated upon our return. If you'll excuse us, the sooner we begin then the sooner your village will be free of yoma."

The mayor nodded in a jerky, even exaggerated fashion. The two hunters turned and left the inn, walking back out into the warm daytime air. The crowd had slowly begun to disperse and Hagan couldn't help but notice that the yoma bodies had already been removed in the short interval that the two had been indoors.

Hagan turned toward the well that stood in the middle of the square, approaching a middle aged woman accompanied by a girl that couldn't have been more than six and was most likely her daughter. Hagan was aware of Isyllia walking next to him, watching his back as surely as he watched hers. The woman and her daughter turned to them as the two hunters drew near, pausing in the act of drawing water from the well.

The male Claymore put on his most charming smile and crouched next to the little girl. "Hello, little one. My name is Hagan." He offered her his hand, which the girl took after a moment. She smiled shyly, looking up at her mother for approval before both taking his hand and speaking to him.

"I'm Anna." The little girl said, trying to give him a very grown up handshake.

"Do you know why we are here, Anna?" Hagan asked the little girl as she let go of his hand. The only bad thing about kneeling was that it tended to overemphasize the size of the sword he wore.

"Nuh uh." The little girl withdrew a bit behind her mother's skirts but bravely held her ground. Mostly.

"We're here to make all the monsters go away." Hagan told the little girl, resting his now free hand on his knee. "If you see any monsters, you come find us and we'll scare them away."

"Okay, I will." The little girl finally retreated behind the safety of her mother but continued to peer out at him nonetheless.

Hagan rose to his feet, nodding in appreciation to the girl's mother before turning and walking back toward the entrance to the village. Isyllia moved to walk at his side, masking her true feelings behind the indifference that she normally wore. Hagan's expression returned to the normal calm as the two turned to the matter at hand, purging the village of yoma. As they drew near the entrance, the two finally came to a stop. With their curiosity satisfied, the villagers returned to their normal routine. Which left the two Claymores to their own devices.

Isyllia lowered her head, closing her eyes and letting her senses roam the area in search of yoki. After several long moments, she opened her eyes again. She lifted her hand and gestured toward the north side of the village. "I'm getting six or so distinct yoki. They're not strong enough for me to pinpoint at this range, as no doubt the yoma are trying quite hard to hide themselves from us now that they know we're here."

Hagan nodded to Isyllia, not surprised at all by what she was picking up. He could tell that there were yoma somewhere nearby but not specifically where. Isyllia was by far the most sensitive of their generation, earning her the nickname of Seeress Isyllia before they'd even completed their training. "Shall we take a stroll around the village and see how lucky we get?"

Isyllia nodded and gave him a razor thin smile, not one of humor but rather the smile of one in anticipation of yet another hunt. She turned and lead the way, leaving her brother Claymore to walk a step behind her. She lead in a generally northern direction, drifting off to follow a faint yoki trail which usually lead to a doorway. Once at the home of one of the villagers, Isyllia left Hagan to see about getting inside to take a look around. Very few refused when asked, and she noted those that did not as likely places yoma would be hiding.

Most Claymores simply insisted and sometimes pushed their way inside a place where they suspected yoma of hiding but since Isyllia'd been partnered with Hagan she'd never once had to insist. Hagan's skill with words rarely left even the most skittish villager willing to block their entry and every time someone had, it had invariably been because of a yoma hiding inside. Somehow, he seemed able to project a sense of confidence and trust onto the people he spoke with and he'd long since been nicknamed Noble Hagan because of his skill as a diplomat by their brothers and sisters.

As the sun began to dip into the ground, having nearly completed the day's journey that the two arrived at the very last place that she sensed yoki from that they hadn't taken the time to examine. Isyllia stepped away from the door after gesturing toward it, giving her brother Claymore a chance to petition their entry. Hagan rapped politely on the door with gloved knuckles then the two waited for someone inside to answer the door.

After a moment, there was a creaking of floorboards and the rattle of a door being unlocked. As the door swung open, the sense of yoki grew strong. Strong enough to indicate that whatever had opened the door was in fact a yoma in disguise. Even as the door creaked open, two sets of eyes flashed from silver to gold and it was Hagan who reacted first.

Before the door fully opened, the blade in his hand flashed forward in an blindingly fast series of strikes, chopping the yoma within into dozens of pieces before it had time to even register that it had been cut apart as Hagan had the half finished apple that very morning.

Isyllia stepped past Hagan, her sword held in hand and ready for use. She paused inside the room to find the cottage empty except for the yoma parts piled in the doorway. "Empty." She declared, having already determined exactly that. She sensed rather than saw Hagan's nod of agreement and sheathed her sword.

"There are still five or so of them hiding somewhere in the village." She said as she turned to him. "And knowing yoma, they won't make it easy."

"Of course not." Hagan agreed, nodding to Isyllia even as he finished sheathing his own sword. The two Claymores looked at each other for a moment before Hagan spoke again. "Usual routine then?" He asked, making eye contact with Isyllia.

Isyllia nodded in response, two pairs of silver eyes locked together for a moment before she moved past him. Hagan fell into step next to her, walking quietly in the fading light back to the inn where they'd been offered a room to stay. Isyllia chose to loiter outside while Hagan went inside to talk with the mayor. Unable to find him at first glance, and the room having been returned to what he assumed to be the normal arrangement, he instead stopped a young man to inquire as to where the mayor might have gone.

The boy, who was likely the mayor's son based on a resemblance in appearance, disappeared into the back room. He returned with the man that Hagan recognized as the mayor, who hurried over to greet him. The mayor blinked and looked around before turning his attention to the male Claymore before him. "Your room is ready whenever you'd like to use it and I can have the meal you requested prepared at any time. Say, where is the other one?"

Hagan nodded in response to the question being asked. "Isyllia is outside, awaiting my return." He explained calmly. He'd long since learned that speaking in a calm voice made it much easier to deal with people who'd otherwise be too skittish to hold an extended conversation with. "We'll be outside tonight and every night until we eliminate all the yoma from the village. They won't show themselves in daylight unless they feel that they have to. We'll make use of the room upon the morning." He gestured with his left hand slightly toward the crowd gathered around the nearby fireplace. "I have a request."

The mayor's expression shifted to show his curiosity. "Of course, I'll be happy to help any way I can." He offered, glancing at the crowd.

"For their own safety, we'd prefer it if everyone lock themselves in their homes at night and keep the windows closed as well." Hagan continued, letting his senses wander over the crowd in the room. After all, one did occasionally get lucky. "With the two of us keeping an eye on things, that'll mean any yoma will have to come outside to attack any of the villagers. And the sound of a door opening can be very loud at night."

The mayor seemed to be thinking it over, the look on his face one of thoughtfulness. "Of course, that won't be a problem at all. In fact, I don't know why I hadn't thought of it myself." He continued, then put his hand on the shoulder of the boy next to him. "Mikal, get your sister and the two of you tell everyone in town. Hurry, before the sun goes all the way down."

The boy Mikal scampered from the room, leaving the mayor and the Claymore alone. "I'll tell everyone here and let you two go about your business." The mayor continued. "Anything we can do to help."

Hagan nodded, smiling to the mayor before turning away. "Thank you very much." He said then left the inn, returning to Isyllia. The female Claymore had a disinterested expression but he knew that she was already searching for yoma. "East or west?" He asked her, making eye contact again.

"East." Isyllia nodded to him. "Everything okay then."

"Yes," Hagan agreed, breaking eye contact and turning away from her. "Situation normal." He gave her a wave with his left hand then jumped onto a nearby roof.

Isyllia watched as he leaped several buildings over before settling onto an nonsmoking chimney. "Be safe, my brother." She said quietly then began looking for a good vantage point in order to oversee her half of the village. She'd finally selected a chimney like he had, with a nice view of the town square. As the light faded into a nearly full moon, she could just see a reflection of the moonlight off of the waters inside the well nearby.

She settled down into what would surely be a most quiet of evenings, the first of many she expected in this village. It was a nice village with friendly enough people, and she would be glad when they finally got rid of the yoma hiding here. No one should have to live under the plague that yoma represented and the reason she lived was to protect otherwise ordinary people from them. Life could prove to be difficult enough without having this threat to their very lives hanging over them.

She knew that this night would pass as every night before when she'd been on the hunt. Every sound would draw her attention, every passing shadow the same. Even as the moon made her slow path across the sky, no yoma stirred or moved about. No screams were heard, no sounds of anyone moving about on the streets below. A quiet, peace filled night. Probably the first that this town had seen in a very long time.

She stifled a yawn as the sun slowly crept up below the horizon at her back. She felt the warming rays upon her, waiting patiently as the streets below slowly began to come to life. The sound of morning conversation echoed below her, filled with the quiet voices that people used during those sleepy hours. She tuned into no one conversation, rather letting herself luxury in the night well spent. The people below sounded hopeful and reassured, something that a good night's rest certainly helped with.

It wasn't until the sun was fully up and the streets were filled that Isyllia sensed her brother Hagan moving from his perch on the other end of the village. She rose to her feet, hoping lightly down from the chimney to the roof then to the ground. She exchanged morning greetings with several of the villagers as she walked to the inn where she would meet up with her partner.

Isyllia found herself in front of the inn before Hagan arrived, waiting patiently as he'd no doubt stopped along the way to speak with some of the villagers. Fortunately for her patience, she only had to wait a few moments before her errant brother hunter arrived. She gave him a smile that reflected a false sense of impatience, going inside before him. She left him to follow, knowing that even if she were to suddenly walk into a nest of yoma that he'd be right there behind her.

It was easy for her to determine which room had been set aside for their use as she simply had to follow her nose to the smell of warm bread and freshly made cheese. She climbed the steps to the second level, going inside the room. Hagan entered right behind her and closed the door quietly behind him.

"Uneventful, of course." Hagan told Isyllia as she removed her sword and leaned it against the wall next to her. He broke the small loaf of bread in half, handing her one and setting it on the cutting board before doing the same with the white cheese that was also there.

Hagan watched in silence as Isyllia took several bites of both cheese and bread before setting the remainder aside. She plopped down untidily on the bed, rolling onto her side with a yawn. "Wake me in a couple of hours or so." She requested then drifted off to sleep before he could even answer her.

"Of course," Hagan told the female Claymore, drawing his own sword and leaning it against the wall next to hers. Several bites of bread and cheese were enough for him as well, so he sat down then leaned against the bed. He sat in silence, listening to the soft sound of her breathing as she slept. He stifled one last yawn then tucked his chin into his chest before dozing off himself. The hunt had just begun.

* * *

Hagan opened his eyes and looked out the open window, seeing that the sun was just beginning to set. He looked over his shoulder to see Isyllia still asleep and hogging the bed, just like usual. Part of their training had been to sleep anytime and anywhere, sitting down was just as natural as laying down by the time they'd earned their swords. He half turned then reached over to tap her gently on the back of the hand to wake her up. "Wake up, sleepy. Time to go to work." He stood up, absently making minute adjustments to his muscles to work out any kinks that might have developed while he slept.

Finding none, he reached over and picked up his sword. Even as he settled it into place with the usual soft clinking sound, a soft yawn could be heard from the bed. "Evening, already?" His companion seemed to be protesting but he knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't miss the night's hunt for anything short of having her legs hacked off. And even then she'd find a way, in many ways she was a stubborn as he was.

He took a nibble of cheese, half listening to the sound of her getting out of bed and getting ready herself. "Which night do you think they'll finally come out of hiding?" He asked her as she settled her sword into place. He could tell at a glance that she was ready for the evening's hunt, returning his attention to the small bit of cheese in his hand.

"Let's see..." She seemed to be thinking it over. "How about fifth night?" She suggested, turning away and opening the door to the room. She paused at the door for a moment, waiting for the startled villager to move out of the hallway.

"Fifth night it is." He agreed readily, turning to follow her. She was being her usual inapproachable self as they left the inn but he nodded in response to several raised mugs in their direction. Things were already beginning to improve as the village had reason to no longer fear the yoma hiding within their very midst.

He exchanged a wave as they always did before heading to the places that they'd chosen to watch over the villagers. As they'd chosen to start before the sun had gone down, he found himself returning evening greetings with villagers hurrying home for the night. Hagan settled down as the day turned fully into night, noting that Isyllia had chosen the same spot as the night before.

Anything moving about would not escape their notice nor would even the rustling of leaves in the deserted streets below. The yoma hiding here would have two choices, to try to slip out of the village unnoticed or to try to find a meal under the watchful eyes of himself and his partner. The first would be more likely to succeed than the second but he wouldn't wager on the success of either.

He knew that given that it was nearly winter, the yoma would have to make their escape within the next week or so. Given that it was slowly getting colder each night, the yoma would be too sluggish to move about in a way that would fool either of them. Which meant it would be a week or so until they got to go back to the Organization's headquarters which was also their home.

The losses among his brother and sister Claymores had been surprising to him after that first year, finding that most of them that had disappeared had instead turned into what were now being called Awakened Beings. Which was what happened to a hunter when he or she gave into the seductive power of his or her yoma side.

The number must have been a concern to the people that controlled the Organization as well, as it was only their second year of service and he'd been paired with another hunter as a result at the beginning of this one. He'd long since adjusted to working with a partner and sometimes even found that experience to be a pleasant one.

Hagan let his mind wander, dividing his attention between his musings and the streets below him. When the sun finally crept upward, it was no surprise to him that the night had been peaceful. Listening to the morning conversations revealed to him that in spite of the coming winter, the village was in a cheerful mood.

Once the sun was fully up, he hopped easily off of his chimney perch to the ground below. He exchanged morning greetings as he headed back to the inn where they'd stayed the day before. Today's routine would be different from yesterday's as they'd both been without sleep for the better part of a week and while it hadn't showed, it certainly made things a bit more difficult.

On long hunts like this, they'd figured out that they could rest in the first couple of days then remain watchful thereafter without interruption. Hence his question to her about when they should seriously begin to hunt. He even found himself humming an old childhood tune as he returned to the inn.

* * *

Isyllia hopped down from her perch to find the woman and little girl that Hagan had spoken to on the day that they arrived waiting for her. She gave the two a curious look but before she could speak, the little girl came over and gave a tug on her sleeve. "There's a monster under my bed." The little girl sounded insistent. "Can you get scare it away for me?"

Isyllia found herself smiling at the little girl, who gave her a concerned look. She crouched down in front of her so that she was eye level with the little girl. "A big scary monster?" She asked seriously, remembering when she herself had been afraid of monsters, too. Only her monsters turned out to be yoma that had slaughtered her entire family.

"Yeah, big and hairy." The little girl stretched her arms out as far as she could. "He's at least this big." She continued with that expression that only children could have when they're convinced of something.

"That's a pretty big monster." Isyllia told the girl as she lowered her arms. "How about we get him to stop hiding under your bed and scaring you at night? I bet he's as scared of you as you are of him."

"Really?" The little girl grabbed the female Claymore's hand, tugging on it even as the hunter got to her feet. "Let's go scare him away then."

"Yes, let's." Isyllia agreed, letting the little girl lead the way. She nodded and gave a small smile of encouragement to the girl's mother, who joined in their impromptu procession.

* * *

The past several days had passed without incident and the villagers were in good spirits. Hagan couldn't help but smile at that, returning a wave from one of the villagers who he recognized lived in the cottage across the street from the chimney he'd chosen to watch from. The house below him was one of several that had become deserted as a result of the yoma that were still hiding in the village.

Now that it was the fifth night since their arrival and neither yoma nor a victim of same had been found. Soon, the yoma would grow so hungry as to have to come out and eat. Which meant that they'd have to reveal themselves to the watchful pair of hunters above them. He was also beginning to smell the snow, which meant soon that it would be fully winter and the yoma would be trapped wherever they'd hid themselves. And here they were prey, as they'd been preying on humans before the Claymores had arrived.

Hagan passed the evening as he'd every evening on the hunt. However, it was nearly midnight before he'd heard the soft creaking of a door and the rustling of leaves which indicated someone was about. As suddenly as the sound began, it faded back into silence. But by then it was too late, for as surely as the moonlight bathed the streets, he could sense that it was a yoma. It was one, no two, yoma lurking about the streets below.

While they were closer, much closer, to Isyllia than to himself that would not matter in the slightest. He leaped from his place, drawing his sword even before he hit the ground. He was running at full speed even as his feet hit the ground, inhumanly fast. So fast that Hagan crossed the village in mere seconds, arriving even as Isyllia did.

By accident or design, the two Claymores chose different yoma. The two yoma barely had time to shed their human disguises before they were fallen upon by those that hunted them. Isyllia neatly cut the one at the waist then decapitated it, while Hagan's sword blurred into the technique he called the Quick Sword.

The sound of ringing swords faded into silence, as sudden as the ringing of blades had been. The two exchanged a long look over the corpses of their fallen enemies then nodded in unison. "The others won't come out until they're desperate." Isyllia said quietly, clearing the blood from her blade with a flick of her wrist then returning it to its resting place across her back.

"A couple more days, probably." Hagan agreed quietly, his eyes turning to the dead yoma between them. He likewise cleared his blade of blood then returned it to its resting place.

"Probably." Isyllia agreed, standing silently for a moment more before leaving the bodies behind.

* * *

Azmear figured that ten days would have been sufficient time for the two Claymores to kill all the yoma hiding in Dalmor. He walked into the village, having chosen the northern entrance rather than the westernly one that his two charges had selected. He'd barely passed from dirt to cobblestone when he discovered that he'd been half right in his assessment.

He heard a throaty roar that he figured could only belong to a yoma, hurrying as best he could in the direction that the sound had come from. It was a rare treat to watch the Organization's hunters in action, one he didn't plan to miss. He barely reached the opening to the main square of the village, finding half a dozen yoma engaged in combat with Hagan and Isyllia.

If he'd blinked twice, he would have missed it. So fast were the two that he doubted that even they realized it. There was a ringing of swords, the abruptly cut off roaring of the yoma, and then a sudden silence. Six yoma bodies, five more or less recognizable and one in pieces, seemed to land on the cobblestones at almost the same instant.

"I think we're done." Hagan said in a dry tone of voice, a statement confirmed by Isyllia's firm nod.

Azmear blinked in surprise at the sound of applause from the various villagers clustered around the square. The villagers pressed close to the two Claymores, talking with them or simply just touching an arm or shoulder.

When Azmear saw Hagan meet his gaze and nod before returning to conversation, he knew that the pair would return to the Organization's headquarters when opportunity presented itself. As for him, he had a fee to collect then he'd be on his way home as well. Though he'd never admit it, he was looking forward to the winter calm as much as they did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Amor Vincit Omnia**

_Second Waltz_

The gently falling snow began to slowly fill in the trail left by the trio as they moved with an almost leisurely pace toward the cavernous set of buildings that doubled as both The Organization's headquarters and fortress of refuge. Two of the hunters that the rest of the world referred to as Claymores flanked and walked a step ahead of a Black Robe.

While the Black Robe was bundled deeply in his black colored garments, with even his nose covered by the equally dark scarf. Not even his eyes were visible, concealed behind a set of goggle that hid his eyes from the rest of the world. From time to time, gloved hands brushed the snow from his shoulders one after the other before disappearing back into the concealment and no doubt warmth of his sleeves.

The Claymores, a male and a female both, appeared unperturbed by the snow that so vexed their traveling companion. The fallen snow slowly accumulated then drifted down from the steel shod shoulders and the crown of their silver hair. The steady crunch of footsteps, measured and calm, as if they possessed all the time in the world, echoed through the mountain valley.

"Finally." The Black Robe spoke as the trio came within sight of the double doors that marked the entrance to the fortress complex. No guards could be found within sight but not even the most desperate would dare try to bring violence down upon this place.

"We would have been here yesterday had we left Dalmor immediately after completing the assignment rather than lingering for a whole day." The male Claymore replied, his voice as calm as the snow that lay undisturbed around them.

"Well, excuse me for not having the same measure of endurance as the both of you." The Black Robe known as Azmear snapped back, yet there was no bite in his tone. "Some of us actually need to sleep from time to time. And I can't believe that you're not freezing in this snow."

"We are." The woman Claymore, Isyllia, responded in the exact same tone of voice as her partner Claymore Hagan had. "However, we haven't the luxury of bundling up like a bear either."

To this, the Black Robe gave a grunt of acknowledgment and fell silent again. The conversation, seeming played out for the moment, declined to progress further and instead soaked up the early morning silence with was marred only by the soft crunching of footsteps in the fallen snow.

As the trio came upon the double doors, each door easily large enough to accommodate a man on horseback and made with solid looking wood bound with metal slats that ran across the door which was found roughly every foot or so in height. A pair of iron handles larger than a man's hand hung at shoulder level, tapping softly against their metal fixtures as one of the doors slowly opened partway to admit the trio.

"Welcome home." One of the guards, armed with sword and bow, said to the trio as they passed through the gateway into the courtyard.

"Thank you." Hagan nodded in response to the man as he and Isyllia turned toward the largest of the trio of buildings within the fortress.

The Black Robe Azmear turned in the opposite direction, toward the building that housed both the administration and leadership of The Organization. "I'll see you two after the winter calm." He said, lifting a hand and waving slightly as he walked away from the others.

Any response the duo might have made was cut off by the loud creaking sound as the massive and sturdy gate was closed then securely locked. It was not expected that the gate would be reopened until winter was chased away by the onset of spring now that the last of the hunters and their handlers had returned.

"Home." Isyllia sighed as she tugged open the door of the building the pair had gone to. This building was where they'd become hunters and had been their home for many years as they'd grown into the role they eagerly embraced.

The pair stepped inside only to find a third Claymore, a male with long silver hair awaiting them. "Welcome home, Hagan, Isyllia." He reached out to clasp hands with first one then the other of the hunters.

"It's good to be home, Isley." Hagan smiled at the hunter who ranked number one of their generation. "I'm guessing that we're the last ones to return?" He asked even as he exchanged the handshake.

"It seems so." Isley reached out and patted Hagan on the shoulder in a gesture of what one could take to be affection. The two hunters exchanged a smile even as Isley clasped hands with Isyllia.

"Where's Rigaldo?" Isyllia asked, looking toward the ceiling then back down to meet the other's eyes.

"He hasn't been seen in almost a month." Isley suddenly grew serious and quite sober. "Nor has Nathaniel, his Black Robe."

"He's missing then." Hagan frowned, gazing down at the floor for a moment. "Awakened?"

"It's possible. Given his temper, it's quite likely actually." Isley shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other at the admission. "I'm on my way over to meet with the ruling council. Dauf and I are going to see if we can get permission to go looking for him."

Hagan and Isyllia both nodded at Isley's admission, as it wasn't the first time that they'd heard of a comrade giving into the seductive power of his yoma side. "Be careful when you go." Hagan said quietly. "If he's Awakened, then he'll be a handful."

"I will, my friend. I will." Isley patted Hagan on the shoulder. "Get some rest, we'll talk later." Without so much as one further word, the ranked number one stepped past the two and into the courtyard. He was headed toward the same building that the Black Robe Azmear would have disappeared into.

Hagan suppressed a sigh as Isley left the building. While they'd been friends for the longest time, it'd seemed to him that the other had been drifting away since they'd started actively hunting yoma. "I need a nap." Hagan said finally, breaking the silence that hung in the air after the conversation had ended.

Isyllia reached forward and poked Hagan in the shoulder. "I'm going to get a bite to eat first. Want anything?"

"No, I think I need that nap more." Hagan smiled gently over his shoulder at Isyllia then waved to her as he headed for the barracks.

Isyllia watched as Hagan left her alone, her eyes not quite able to hide her troubled feeling and concern. She hadn't expected the reception that they'd gotten nor Hagan's reaction to it. She turned and walked in the other direction, nodding to one of her sisters that passed her as she headed to the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, she helped herself to a bit of bread and some fruit. It'd been ages since she'd had a bite of something that wasn't grown on a tree or out of the ground. Probably since she'd been implanted with yoma, if she was honest about it. She nibbled on it as she headed toward the barracks, taking a once around to find Hagan already curled up and asleep by that time.

"Sleep well, brother." She said quietly then headed to the other end of the room to get some sleep herself.

It was rare that Hagan dreamed, even more so of his childhood. In this particular dream, he was playing with his older brother in one of the fields near a small village who's name he'd never known while his father and mother sat watchfully nearby under a large tree. It was the time right before he'd left his family and come to The Organization in order to become a hunter. He was busy inspecting a brightly colored flower when a nudge on his Yoki abruptly brought him out of sleep and into the state of heightened alertness.

Hagan opened his eyes and sat up to find a grim faced Isley crouched next to the bunk where he'd settled down to sleep. Based on the way that he'd felt, Hagan figured that he hadn't been asleep for very long. "What's going on?" He asked, pushing the after fog of his sleep from his mind. If the nudge on his Yoki hadn't alerted him that something was up, then Isley's expression and dress would have. They never wore full uniform and sword at home as the other hunter did unless necessity demanded it. Something that would shortly change, they would find out.

"A messenger just arrived. They found what was left of Nathaniel a couple of days ago." Isley's voice was as grim as his expression. "He was all but torn apart and Rigaldo's sword was also found nearby."

"He's Awakened then." Hagan said quietly, reaching over to put his boots on.

"It seems that way." Isley looked away then back again. "Dauf and I are going after him. We're to kill him, no matter what it takes."

Hagan made eye contact with his brother Claymore then held it for a long moment before nodding. "Come back human." Hagan reached out and rested a hand on the others shoulder.

Isley nodded then rose to his feet as Dauf and Isyllia came over to join them. "I'm planning on it." He told Hagan as he'd likewise gotten to his feet. "Let's go, Dauf."

The other Claymore nodded in response, falling into step behind him without a further word. There was an echo of silence as the two left the barracks, every silver eye in the room fixed on them. Hagan sighed and shook his head, his expression mirroring the sadness he felt. "And so we begin hunting our own." He said so quietly that only Isyllia could have heard him.

* * *

Isyllia walked quietly toward the library, absently stepping aside as a pair of workers carrying a heavy wooden beam walked past her. It'd been more than a week since Isley and Dauf had left in their pursuit of Rigaldo. Not so coincidentally, Hagan was conspicuously absent as well. It had been an unpleasant revelation to her that she'd actually missed her partner after having spent nearly the entire year fighting alongside of him. As such, she'd set about tracking down her errant partner; only to find out that he'd been in the library the entire time.

She pushed open the heavy oak door that served as the entrance to the room that doubled as both a records room and a storehouse of reading materials that the members of the Organization were granted access to. It was understandably rare when one of the hunters used the library, never mind actually spent time here. Truthfully, so many books intimidated her just a little but to her knowledge didn't seem to bother Hagan at all. In fact, he seemed to be the only one who was comfortable here.

Isyllia followed her senses to find her brother Claymore at the largest table which dominated one corner of the massive room. The table itself was covered with books and scrolls of various sizes and a writing desk had been pulled over for use. A stack of parchments sat on the writing desk as well as several writing utensils plus the remains of at least one meal. Rounding out the collection and leaning against the side of the writing desk was Hagan's sword.

"So this is where you've been hiding." Isyllia said as she walked up behind Hagan, who's head turned her direction just a little at her footsteps.

"Not hiding exactly, but yes, I've been here." Hagan gestured toward a nearby chair, which was the mate of the one that he sat down into as Isyllia approached. Isyllia drew her own sword, leaning it against a nearby bookshelf that was in easy reach before settling into the offered chair facing Hagan.

"So what exactly have you been doing?" Isyllia leaned back in the chair, crossing her legs comfortably. At least she could be at ease around Hagan.

"Research." Hagan plucked the stack of parchments from the writing desk, shuffling through them until he found the one that he'd wanted. He then passed the parchment to Isyllia, who looked at it carefully. "After Isley and Dauf left, I decided that I'd do a little digging to see exactly what our losses looked like and what I found surprised me." He gestured toward the parchment, which Isyllia was busy scanning.

"Many of our brothers and sisters have gone missing." Isyllia frowned, rescanning the list to see what she could find in common about them. "Aside from Rigaldo...they're all lower ranked." She looked up for confirmation.

Hagan nodded to Isyllia, retrieving a second parchment before returning the stack back to the writing desk. "Aside from Rigaldo, there isn't a one ranked above forty. And if you look at the very bottom of the list, you'll find that we've actually only lost two of our sisters to Yoma."

Isyllia's eyes drifted to the bottom of the parchment, locating the information that Hagan had pointed out. "Miora, ranked sixty four." She frowned as she continued. "Abigail, ranked eighty two." Her eyes drifted back up the list again. "The rest are missing?" She couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice. "There's got to be fifty missing."

"Forty eight by my count, including Rigaldo." Hagan passed the second parchment to Isyllia, who scanned that one as well. "This list is those confirmed to have Awakened since we began. It's not an exact match but it's almost identical to the first list."

Isyllia looked up in shock at Hagan, meeting his gaze even as what he'd just told her sank in. "But that means..." She couldn't bring herself to finish.

Hagan nodded in response. "It means that at the current speed of losses, that we'll all have become missing in five years. Possibly less if our Awakened siblings manage to kill us first now that we're going to be expect to hunt them as well." His voice grew quieter as he continued. "Half of us are missing. Half."

* * *

Hagan hadn't yet shared what he'd found out with the other Claymores aside from Isyllia. Truthfully, he wasn't sure if even telling his siblings was a good idea. And the council seemed determined to keep the extent of it from them as well. An announcement had been made that 'a few' of their siblings, including Rigaldo, had become Awakened Beings. Along with the news that their Awakened brothers and sisters were far stronger now then they had before only proved more troubling to him.

As best he could tell, efforts were not being made to preserve those hunters already in service but rather to prepare the next generation for both Yoma and Awakened Being hunts. In fact, tactics were being designed and refined even now during the winter calm. He wasn't even sure that there would be another winter calm, given the circumstances.

Hagan tucked his hands underneath his head as he lay in a bunk contemplating the matter. He'd been mulling it over for several days now without really being able to come to a decision about it. He could tell by the troubled look in Isyllia's eyes that she didn't like the news any more than he did and likewise hadn't shared it with anyone. At least as far as he could tell.

A knocking sound on the wood of the bunk above him drew his attention out of his thoughts to the person hovering over his bunk.

"I don't know which is worse, you in the library or you here." Isyllia commented as she leaned over him, her face hovering over his. "You've been laying here for three days, which is entirely too long." She waggled a finger at him. "You need some exercise."

Hagan rolled his eyes and sat up. "I suppose that you're right." He said and got to his feet when Isyllia backed up so he could do just that. "Anywhere in particular?" He asked as he retrieved his sword.

"I thought we'd take a look at the trainees." Isyllia suggested, turning to lead the way. "See how they are doing."

Hagan grunted as he fell into step next to her. In truth, he could use the distraction. Nothing gloomier than pondering your own fate. It certainly wouldn't improve things if he spread the news, which meant that he probably wouldn't after all. Instead, he let himself drift along in the comfortable silence as he walked with Isyllia toward the area that was set aside for those who had not yet completed their training yet had already received their yoma half.

Hagan wasn't even certain that limiting the impact was a good idea given that he was certain that his brothers and sisters could count noses just as well as he could and would note the disparity between the number announced missing and the actual number not present. It could certainly prove to be a severe blow to their overall morale when news finally did get out, assuming that there were enough of them left by that point of time for it to matter. Hagan thought it likely that Azmear would be passing along orders to the new hunters long after both he and Isyllia were long gone.

A gentle elbow to the ribs brought him out of his thoughts and he turned his head to look inquisitively at his partner. "You need to stop brooding about it, it's beginning to show in your Yoki." Isyllia informed him as the two stepped around a courier with a double armload of parchments.

"Right." Hagan gave a lopsided smile to Isyllia. "Doom, gloom, and all that for the future." He said as the two emerged into the main courtyard set aside for the new trainees. Hagan's eyebrows shot upward as he took in the small group on the far side of the courtyard, all of them trainees except for a single instructor. Apparently, whatever test or training they were undergoing had already whipped the new batch into a state of exhaustion as they seemed to be lying on the ground in a variety of poses that suggested it and he could even hear the heavy breathing from here.

"Their Yoki is quite weak still." Isyllia whispered to him as they crossed the oversized courtyard, the largest in the entire complex. "I'm betting that they just recently received their yoma half."

Hagan nodded in response, figuring that the dozen or so trainees certainly couldn't represent the entirety of the next generation. "Instructor." Hagan bobbed his head respectfully to the male, whom he recognized but couldn't recall the name.

"Warrior Hagan." The instructor gave a slight bow in acknowledgment and in response. "It seems that you've arrived just after I've finished putting this batch of trainees through the obstacle course." He gestured toward the still panting trainees. "They're hopeless."

"We all were when we first started out." Hagan smiled slightly at the instructor. "Perhaps a bit of inspiration is in order?" The obstacle course was no mean feat to complete, composed of a variety of poles and platforms that varied from ground level to a pole barely wide enough to stand on that soared an imposing thirty feet in the air. It could prove a challenge even to a fully trained hunter who was racing to complete with both speed and accuracy. To the trainees, it was a mountain-like barrier that was a struggle just to complete, as witnessed by their apparent state of exhaustion.

The instructor simply looked at Hagan for a moment before turning away and clapping his hands to get the trainees' attention. "All right, you worthless piles of refuse. You're about to see how it's supposed to be done by one of the master's himself. Warrior Hagan, who is also the Organization's number four, has graciously volunteered to show you how to properly complete the obstacle course. So sit up and pay attention because he's only going to do it once for your viewing pleasure. After that, I expect that each of you will actually TRY to do it right."

Hagan stood patiently, sensing Isyllia taking a step back to give him a bit of room. He waited until the instructor reached over and picked up the hourglass (which actually measured only about a minute), who was waiting until all the trainees were sitting up and paying attention. Hagan waited until the instructor flipped over the timing glass, not even giving him a chance to speak before springing into action. He left a small cloud of dust behind himself, slowing down enough that the trainees could see each point that he paused rather than simply flowing like the ether itself from the beginning to the end.

It wasn't until he neared the highest point that he sensed a large chunk of wood flying through the air, aimed directly at where he'd have to stand. If it hit him, then he'd certainly be knocked off of the pole and onto the ground. He twisted in midair, his left hand blurring to the sword that he wore, batting the chunk of wood higher into the air. He paused, standing on the pole, balanced only on his left foot with the blade of his sword extended motionless before him.

It was less than a heartbeat before the chunk of wood fell to the level of his extended blade and his arm blurred into the Quick Sword, reducing the unexpected obstacle into toothpick sided splinters. He remained motionless as the splinters rained upon the ground below him, his blade unwavering in his stance.

Isyllia smiled, her arms once again folded and she resumed leaning against the pillar that had provided her with support only the moment before. She'd found a pillar to lean against even as Hagan had prepared himself to complete the course, showing off she supposed. As he neared the highest point of the course, she used a toe to flip a torso sided chunk of wood from the conveniently placed wood pile to her hands then hurled the chunk of wood at her brother hunter as hard as she could, fully well intending to knock him off.

Like he always had, he'd risen to the unexpected challenge and turned it into an even more impressive feat. She felt a stirring of something, pride perhaps, and nodded to him as he landed gracefully on the ground amidst the splinters. At least one of the trainees was fast enough to catch the Quick Sword in motion and the trainees gathered around Hagan, several were already asking him to teach the technique to them.

Isyllia fully expected that he'd at least try and teach it to them, though she doubted that any of them could master it in the bare two months that remained of the winter calm. The basics, certainly, they could grasp in that time and she only hoped that it would make them better hunters in the end. Her eyes drifted to the instructor, who was still looking at his hourglass in apparent surprise and she suppressed a larger smile. It would have been inappropriate to gloat, after all.

"Excuse me, Warrior Isyllia. I have a question." A female voice interrupted her musings and she turned her attention to the only trainee that wasn't clustered around her brother Claymore.

"You know who I am?" Isyllia asked the trainee, who seemed to be both too young and too frail to be a trainee. In truth, she had the gangly look of a pre-teen, but her Yoki was already quite strong given how recently she must have received her yoma half. Unless Isyllia missed her guess, this trainee would eventually end up as a low ranking hunter. Assuming she survived training, that was.

"We all know who you are." The trainee lowered her eyes respectfully then looked back up to meet her gaze, silver eyes meeting silver eyes. "I want to be as strong as you are someday."

Isyllia looked at the trainee for a long moment in silence. It was likely that this trainee before her would never actually get to physically mature into a woman but would likely be locked into a point where she was neither a woman nor a girl. The Organization had pushed this generation of hunters forward before they could possibly be ready. It might seem necessary, even expedient, in the short term but she expected that in the long run it would come back and haunt them for it. "I see. What is your name, trainee?" Isyllia finally asked.

"My name is Riful, Warrior Isyllia."

* * *

Isyllia was perhaps a bit surprised to find Azmear waiting for the two of them outside the council chambers of the Organization's elders. Word of summons had arrived via one of the numerous servants that seemed to be everywhere in the Organization's headquarters. While the servant had been both polite and respectful, there had been no doubt as to both the nature and origin of the summons.

The servant hadn't had to go searching for the two of them as Isyllia had been sitting in the library, a gushingly romantic storybook in hand while Hagan had nose buried in yet another one of the Organization's books of records. She had no idea what he found so fascinating that it absorbed so much of his free time and interest, but she suspected that it had something to do with his own background. Unlike the rest of them, Hagan came from a fairly well to do merchant family, and if that wasn't enough to set him apart; he'd been practically the only one to actually volunteer when he'd had other life choices. No, not practically; he'd been the only one. He served: not because of a lust for power nor for the desire to revenge but a desire to protect. To guard and defend those who could not defend themselves.

While she couldn't always portend what was on her brother hunter's mind, ironically she found herself spending more and more time simply just being around him. The possibility of being separated from him was an unpleasant one that she'd avoided even thinking about but it now crossed her mind as to what the senior most members of the Organization could want from them now that the Winter Calm had finally ended. When, she idly wondered, had he become truly like the brother that she'd lost so long ago on that cold day?

She sensed rather than saw Hagan's surprise at finding the Black Robe Azmear awaiting them outside the council chambers. It simply echoed her own reaction, as the Black Robe was already dressed and garbed for travel outside the walls of the fortress complex. She raised both eyebrows to their waiting keeper only to receive a faint shake of the head to the negative in response. Whatever was up, even he didn't know what it was.

"We're here, open the door. The Elders should not be kept waiting." Azmear told the two guards who blocked the doors that lead into the council chamber. The two guards stepped aside, opening the solid wooden doors with a squeaking of the hinges that Isyllia expected was deliberate.

Isyllia suppressed the sudden chill that ran over her as the nine most powerful men in the Organization, possibly on the entire continent, turned from their deliberations to fix their attention upon the three of them. She fought the urge to fall into a position a step behind Hagan, placing herself in the place where she'd stand to guard his back, as she trusted him to guard her back at the same time. Instead, she took the place at his right side, the Black Robe Azmear falling in a step behind them.

The table that the elders were seated at was a horseshoe shape, and each elder had a secretary in the shadows behind him. Conversation had died at their appearance, and Isyllia let none of her concern show as she stopped next to Hagan in the center of that horseshoe shape, bowing respectfully to the leaders of the Organization itself.

"You sent for us, Elders?" She heard Hagan say as she straightened up and turned her attention to the man in front of her, who she knew was the senior most of them all. Because Hagan was a lower rank than her, it was proper that he would speak for both of them.

It was not the man in front of her who spoke but the second one on the right. He picked up a sheet of parchment and began to read from it. "Warrior Hagan, Warrior Isyllia, Black Robe Azmear. The three of you will proceed without delay and with all due haste to the village of Lindum to determine the fate of former Warriors Isley, Rigaldo, and Dauf. Should you find any of them or all of them to be Awakened, you will engage them in combat and kill them without remorse or hesitation. Should they not be Awakened, then you are directed to return them, or their bodies, to the Organization by whatever means necessary. Once you have determined their fate, or made their fate happen, you are to return to this Council of Elders and give a full accounting of what has transpired."

The man took long enough to clear his throat before continuing, leaving Isyllia with a sudden parched throat and a sudden transfusion of butterflies in her stomach. Large butterflies. "As of this reading; You, Warrior Hagan, are now the ranked number one. You, Warrior Isyllia, are now ranked number two. It is assumed by this reading that the aforementioned individuals have either deserted, have gone rogue, or have become Awakened Beings. This assignment takes precedence over all others."

The setting of the parchment on the table was loud in the silence that followed. Isyllia bowed respectfully, though she wasn't certain what to think. To hear the execution of her brothers...former brothers...being ordered so casually made her quiver inside with something that wasn't fear. Not rage either. There was nothing that could be said, the orders of the Elders were final and absolute. She turned on heel and walked from the room, following Azmear from the council chamber.

The sudden boom of the council chambers doors closing behind them jolted her from her thoughts and she turned her head to find Hagan's silver eyes gazing patiently into her own. He tilted his head sideways over his right shoulder in a nodding gesture that she knew meant they were going to talk about it somewhere else. On the road somewhere else unless she missed her guess.

She turned her head in time to see Azmear sling a bag over one shoulder. As Warriors, the two of them could forage but Azmear wouldn't be able to keep moving indefinitely without some sort of supplies. Even with the … enhancements … that he possessed. She'd figured out a long time ago that Azmear had at least some yoma implanted into him, his inhuman endurance alone was proof enough.

Personally, she wasn't looking forward to the conversation that the three of them were going to have and she had good reason to believe that Hagan's views mirrored her own. So the three of them would leave together as they'd arrived together some two months ago.

* * *

"Where is everyone?" Azmear asked as the three of them came to a halt in the center of the deserted village which had once been Lindum. The trio had been travelling for some two weeks with stops every third or fourth night to rest. Aside from an extended conversation as to the nature and possible true purpose of their mission, the trio had mostly remained in silence during their journey. Each immersed in his or her own thoughts.

The trio had encountered the occasional merchant caravan or soldiers on patrol. Greetings had been exchanged and a general feeling of peace seemed to be upon the land. There was a sense of renewal now that the worst of the winter seemed to have passed and spring was beginning to bloom. That stillness seemed almost eerie now that they had finally arrived at the village of Lindum and found no one waiting there for them.

Hagan crouched near the well that dominated the middle of the village's center courtyard, reaching out and rubbing a finger across the bare dirt in several places. Isyllia had drifted just a bit to the northern side of the courtyard. Azmear busied himself with drawing water from the well by the rope and bucket that creaked loudly when he turned the handle.

"It doesn't seem like anyone has been here for a while, at least a month, I'd say." Hagan said as he stood up, brushing dirt from his gloved hands. "There's no indication of recent activity at all. Even the wildlife seems to be avoiding the area."

"We already know that Rigaldo awakened somewhere in this area, so it's possible that the people who lived here fled the area when that occurred." Azmear pointed out, taking a deep drink of water from the bucket then began the task of refilling his canteen from the bucket.

"There are faint traces of Yoki still lingering in the area." Isyllia said as she turned and walked across the courtyard to rejoin them at the well. "So there was a yoma, or more likely an Awakened Being, here recently. Like in the past day or so. In fact, it would seem..." Whatever she was about to say was interrupted as her eyes narrowed and her right hand shot to her sword hilt. "Hagan."

Hagan's eyes narrowed as he turned his attention toward the northern side of the square, his own hand flashing to the sword sheathed over his left shoulder. "I sense it too." He told her, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the area Isyllia indicated. "Strong Yoki aura, not ours and not a regular yoma." He said, mostly for Azmear's benefit.

"An Awakened Being then. The Yoki aura is stronger than mine or yours, which means it can only be." Isyllia stopped speaking at the emergence of a figure that stepped from the shadows of the empty buildings to the northern edge of the courtyard.

There was a soft crunch of leather boots on the snow still within the shadows that he'd emerged from. The slender and silver long haired figure was familiar to each member of the trio. "Welcome to Lindum." Isley said as he emerged from the shadows and into the noon day sun. He paused in clear view and nodded to them. "I presume that you have a message for me." It wasn't a question but a simple statement.

"Isley, by order of the council of elders, you are hereby ordered to surrender yourself into our custody for return to the Organization immediately. Should you choose to resist, we are under orders to bring you in, alive or dead, by any means necessary." Azmear turned to look directly at the former first warrior. The Black Robe had had plenty of time to think over exactly what he'd say when they did finally meet one of the renegade hunters.

"Just like that." Isley seemed calm, perhaps a bit too calm given the situation. "Since you already know that I'm Awakened, I only see one course of action before me."

Isyllia didn't glance at Hagan, as badly as she wanted to. She knew that this had to be a severe blow to Hagan, seeing the person who'd once been his friend now on the side of the enemy. "It's not too late to come back." She said quietly.

Hagan nodded, his face completely blank. The twisting feeling in his gut didn't reflect on his face. "  
Please, Isley. We didn't become hunters simply to turn into the very monsters, or something far worse, than what we have been fighting against."

"You truly are deserving of your nickname, my brother." Isley said in a soft, almost sad tone of voice after a few strained seconds of silence. "But even you can not persuade me to move from the path I have chosen." He spread his hands wide, his yoki flaring to a visible whirlwind of energy around his body. "I have accepted his gift of power and now I must let no one stand against me. Not even the two of you."

In an instant, the man that Isley had been was gone. In his stead stood a strange looking silver centaur with skeleton like wings and large webbed looking fingers. The silver eyes of the two Claymore's changed from their normal silver to that of a catlike gold, which they always did in the presence of a yoma. Or an Awakened Being.

Hagan sprang forward, his drawing his sword as he called upon all his speed and power. Inside, he mourned for the loss of the man who'd been his friend and now stood before him as a monster consumed only with his own desires. Hagan could sense Isyllia right behind him, while not quite as fast as him, she moved with a quicksilver grace of her own.

Hagan's sword flashed forward in the Quick Sword, intent on taking the head of the Awakened Being before him. As fast as he was, the creature before him managed to block his every strike. It even managed to send a kick from it's back hooves toward Isyllia, which she blocked with the blade of her sword.

As he jumped backward from the awakened form of Isley, he had only the vaguest sense that Azmear had done the intelligent thing and had dove for cover. Though personally, he wasn't sure that there would be any place to hide from the battle that now raged. Hagan was certain that he and Isyllia could defeat Isley even in his awakened form, though he knew it would be a hard fought thing.

Hagan called upon more and more of his Yoki as the battle progressed, each time enhancing not only his overall speed but also the power of his strikes. Isyllia's sword flashed in rhythm with his, her every movement in harmony with his, seeking any opening that he might have created.

Again and again, swords hammered against the incredibly tough flesh of the Awakened Being. Occasionally, there would be a spurt of purple icor as one sword or the other found a minute breech in the defenses. Yet a true opening could not be found and even as the contest continued, it remained a stalemate.

It seemed like an eternity that they had fought. Hagan knew that both he and Isyllia were approaching their limit. If this battle didn't end soon, then they would find themselves in serious trouble. Either one of them might accidentally pass their limit and that would be a far worse situation than the one they now faced.

Hagan called on as much of his Yoki as he dared, his Yoki flaring into a visible golden whirlwind. He struck once again, only this time the Quick Sword slashed the right hand from the Awakened form of Isley and chopped it into bits. He pulled back again, finding himself standing near the open well. He panted for breath, stuggling to push his Yoki back down and retain his control over it.

It took several labored breaths but he managed to recenter himself and regain complete control over his Yoki. Isyllia stood nearby, her sword gleaming dully in the afternoon sun, spotted here and there with the purple icor that was the blood of an awakened being. His eyes narrowed as he finally sensed the presence of another awakened being, and the creature that they'd been fighting raised it's remaining hand and waved in a gesture of farewell before turning and abruptly vanishing into the shadows.

Hagan and Isyllia sprang forward in pursuit but before they could even cross the courtyard, a dozen and more yoma exploded out of the shadows in several places. This forced the two hunters to turn their attention away from their pursuit and to deal with the immediate threat. It took the two hunters only seconds to slaughter the yoma that had ambushed them but it was enough time for Isley to gain enough of a lead to escape.

Even as the two hunters returned their attention back to the direct that Isley had escaped from, they caught sight of Rigaldo. The former number two gave them a wave of farewell then vanished himself, leaving a soft stirring of snow behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Amor Vincit Omnia**

_Third Waltz_

"It is my opinion as their Black Robe that the actions taken by Warriors Hagan and Isyllia were entirely correct in their handling of the Awakened Being formerly known as Isley and for now that the matter should be considered closed." Azmear said in conclusion of his report to the Elders concerning their encounter with the Awakened form of Isley.

_I swear these pompous idiots have no idea what kind of hell they put their hunters through for the sake of their egos and profits._ Azmear thought to himself as he waited for the response from the gathered Elders. He was aware of Hagan and Isyllia, having stood quietly behind him the entire time.

Rather than listen to the debate between the Elders, which turned out to be shorter than he expected, Azmear tucked his hands into the sleeves of his voluptuous robe and waited patiently. What he got was an impression that there was still quite a bit of dissent between them on the subject of how to deal with Awakened Beings. Not of a surprise to him was that of one side wanting to halt the production of Hunters until a better solution could be found and the other side that wanted to accelerate the training program in order to produce Hunters more quickly to meet the upsurge in demand.

In his rather informed opinion, Azmear knew both sides were wrong but being a mere Black Robe meant that he wouldn't be listened to. It would be because he was too involved or some equally meager excuse. It took a while for the debate to wind down to the inevitable stalemate, which meant that nothing was going to be solved right now.

_Morons_. Azmear's expression did not reflect his inner thought as one of the Elders made the announcement that the issue would be tabled until sometime in the future. Instead, he simply sketched a proper bow before backing out of the room. He made a face to the closed council chamber door before turning his attention to Hagan and Isyllia.

"Get something to eat and some rest." He suggested to the pair as he turned to face them. "We'll be heading out as soon as the next assignment comes in." Azmear noted that the two Hunters exchanged a look before nodding and turning away to leave. The two seemed nearly telepathic at times, something most likely the result of having to work together so closely for so long.

Azmear stood a moment longer in silence before turning away from the council chamber door to head into the depths of the building where his own chambers were. There was the inevitable paperwork about the event that awaited him. While he'd put forth some suggestions as to ways to reduce the amount of paperwork required by a Black Robe. Some of them had even been implemented, which said volumes about how highly ranked as a Black Robe he was.

After a few minutes, he came to the rather simple wood door that lead to his chambers. It looked remarkably like every other wooden door in the building but he knew which door was his. In the center of the room sat his desk and a well padded armchair, which was one of the few luxuries that he was entitled to that he actually took advantage of. Settling into the comfortable chair, he took up pen to begin wading his way through the stack of paperwork on his desk.

It was sometime during the next morning that he lifted his head to look around at a knock on his door. He'd finished sometime during the night and simply had put his head down on his desk to rest. He had vague recollections of dinner being brought and taken away, something about stew and ale for some reason seemed to suggest itself.

"Enter!" He called, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to straighten up his appearance. The heavy wooden door opened to reveal a young scribe, who was holding what looked like a dispatch in his hands.

"This just came, sir." The youth's voice cracked back and forth between a manly baritone and a squeaky soprano. The scribe held out the paper for him to take.

Azmear took the offered dispatch and frowned as he opened it. "Have someone clear the reports off of my desk." He said absently as he began to read it. "Everything is caught up for the time being." He glanced up to see the scribe give a rather awkward half bow then disappear out the door with perhaps a bit of unseemly haste, closing it securely behind him.

The dispatch was a short one, detailing the encounter of a group of pilgrims with an Awakened Being and Yoma in the proximity of Rabona. Dispatches such as this one tend to be the first news of an active Yoma presence in an area, which tends to be followed several days later by one or more villages in the area requesting assistance. Rabona, on the hand, would not be requesting assistance of any kind since the law banning the presence of any intelligent non-humans from the city proper had emerged several years ago. Right about the time that the first Hunters became active, which suggested someone influential on the inside knew about them before they became public knowledge.

A puzzle for another day.

He drew a blank sheet of paper from a desk drawer and wrote a short note, stating that he would be sending several Hunters to the area of Rabona to investigate the report given in the dispatch. He folded the note in half after tucking the dispatch inside of it. He left the note with the dispatch inside of it on in the middle of his desk and left his chambers, headed across the compound to where Hagan and Isyllia would be waiting.

It was rare for duels between hunters to take place in the Organization's headquarters and rarer still that they be between single digits. It would be expected then that anyone who could find excuse to watch the duel would do so. This particular duel had gone long, most likely due to the familiarity of the two whom where the center of it.

Strike. Parry. Thrust. Counter. Slash. Dodge.

As if on an unspoken agreement, the two combatants suddenly separated. The ringing and swishing sounds of blades stopped as suddenly as a light turned off by switch. The two stood, barely two arm lengths apart, motionless as a sudden light breeze lifted their half capes and billowed them for just a heartbeat or two.

Isyllia frowned then her expression smoothed into a nearly mirror image of Hagan's non-expression. She was having trouble reading Hagan's yoki, which was how she was normally able to match his unparalleled speed and reflexes. If she was having trouble reading his yoki then she certainly couldn't begin using techniques of manipulating it that she was only just beginning to develop.

"All right, that's enough." Azmear's voice cut into the silence like a knife and heads turned in unison to look at him. "I know there's work to be done and it's not here." The murmurings of the various spectators were muted but audible enough to the hunter's keen ears even as they sheathed their swords and stood waiting expectantly.

Azmear waited until the three of them were alone before speaking, moving over to join the pair. "There's been reports of an Awakened Being somewhere in the vicinity of Rabona." He told them. "There's reason to believe that it might be preying on some of the pilgrims visiting the city. Find it and get rid of it."

Hagan and Isyllia exchanged a glance before nodding in unison then turning and walking away. The two could be creepy like that sometimes.

Isyllia could only think that there was something ominous about the assignment. Or perhaps it was because of the closed in nature and general conservatism that always seemed to be about the city of Rabona. If the Awakened Being was in fact inside Rabona, it would be that much harder to hunt it down and destroy it. And then, there was something about Rabona itself that seemed to bother Hagan, whom she had already noticed was acting more withdrawn than usual.

It was enough to make her edgy concerning the entire affair. She didn't like being edgy. It seemed to affect her ability to read yoki, which could be disastrous in this case. So, as they walked, she tried the various techniques that they'd been taught to calm and recenter themselves.

She paused at the crest of a hill overlooking the city, glancing at Hagan as he likewise drew to a stop. He'd become more closed in and withdrawn than usual as they'd gotten closer to the Holy City, which only added to her nervousness. They'd taken a shortcut through part of the forest that surrounded Rabona, emerging to a panoramic view of the city and the roads that lead into it.

The road on the slope below them that ran a twisting path away from the city and along the river that abutted it. This time of year, pilgrims could be seen traveling along the route. Merchant caravans, relying on numbers for safety, dotted here and there. Just outside the main wall stood a tent city of it's own, which housed the visiting pilgrims during their stay. It reminded her of ants around an anthill, such was the distance away that they stood.

"Are you sensing anything yet?" Hagan asked quietly, drawing her attention away from the view and back to the immediate.

Isyllia frowned, closing her eyes and letting her senses roam. After a moment, she could sense several yoki auras. The closest of which she immediately recognized as belonging to Hagan, muted and with a breath-like quality of near intangibility even though she stood right next to him. She tuned that out and focused on the other auras she sensed.

As she concentrated, the wind picked up and blew across the hill, driven the long way across the plain from the body of water near Rabona. It had the same cold crispness of the fading winter, lifting both hair and cape with a gentle caress.

The long moment passed and she opened her eyes, catching a glimpse of the noonday sun reflecting off of the tallest tower within the city. "I'm sensing four different auras," she replied in the same quiet voice that he had used. "They seem to be that of regular yoma, and fairly close to the city. They're clustered together so they're probably traveling as a group. I think they're in the collection of tents near the city walls."

She turned her head in time to catch Hagan's nod of acknowledgment, his eyes contemplative, though he seemed focused on the events of the city and surrounding area. "We're probably going to get there right around time for evening worship so we'll have to postpone the actual hunt until the morning. I expect that it won't take long to find them once we start looking."

Isyllia nodded in agreement to Hagan's statement then started walking down the hill. After a few heartbeats, he fell into step next to her as they resumed their journey.

There was a soft crunching of gravel in the fading light that alerted the people around the warm and growing firelight of someone approaching their circle. Heads turned, though in truth they would be as defenseless as the rest of the pilgrims should the visitors mean them harm. Approaching the circle were two Claymores, a male and female. Though perhaps it was not as easy to distinguish between the two at first glance due to the similar appearance and near identical uniforms. One had to look closely in the dim light to distinguish as their features were similar.

"May we join you for the evening?" The male asked as the two paused just out of arms reach, their silver hair offering a faint reflection of both firelight and of the full moon overhead. There was a pregnant pause then one of the men seated around the fire gestured for the two of them to come to the fire.

The two nodded and then stepped into the circle as those already present moved to make room for them. The pair drew their swords and planted them point first into the dirt before sitting down and leaning against them.

"You're welcome to share what we have, it's not much there should be enough. We're musicians by trade but you're welcome to share anyways." The same man as before now spoke to the newcomers, gesturing toward them with a small wooden bowl that he held. "So . . . what brings you out this way? Rabona's a bit out of your way."

"We're passing through." The male Claymore said in response, accepting a small bowl of what looked to be stew from the young boy who was dutifully helping with dinner. "We figured this would be a good place to stop for the night. My name is Hagan and this is Isyllia." He gestured to the female Claymore who had likewise accepted a small bowl.

"Thank you." Isyllia gave the boy a small smile, dipping into the contents with the wooden spoon that she had likewise been handed. "What is your name?" She asked the young boy, who's eyes got wide from being addressed by her.

"Er...Ermita." He stammered then reached out experimentally to touch her wrist with his hand. Isyllia simply gave him the same small smile and waited until his attention wandered again before resuming eating.

With the interruption now investigated and the newcomers now settled in the firelight, the conversation returned to the normal level, though perhaps a bit subdued compared to what it had been before. As the evening wore on, musical instruments were produced and song rose around the fire. The two newcomers declined to join in with the singing but clapped along.

As the merriment seemed to fade into night, Isyllia rose to her feet then lifted her face to the full moon overhead. Her voice rose in a pure and sweet, a song sung to the full moon, resounding into the night and drawing the glaze of others who were sitting around fires nearby. Though her song was not long, it flowed outward, leaving a blanket of silence and thoughtfulness that lingered long after the last note had faded.

"I would not have expected to hear something like that." One old man broke the silence as he finished lighting his pipe.

"We are more than just swords." Isyllia replied, turning her silver eyes toward him as she sat back down.

Quiet murmurs grew up around them as people began to prepare to go to sleep for the night. "Then what are you?" Someone else ventured to ask as the night slowly began to still.

"The hope of the people." Hagan answered quietly, closing his eyes.

Isyllia opened her eyes and looked around in the pre-dawn light. She could see Hagan standing only a few feet away, silhouetted in the faint glow. The remainder of the people around her hadn't quite started to stir, having passed undisturbed in the night. She quietly got to her feet, pulling her sword from the ground and sheathing it over her shoulder. When one of the children around the fire opened his eyes and looked at her, she held a finger to her lips then smiled reassuringly before exchanging a glance with Hagan.

She lead the way out from the fire and in the general direction of the yoki she'd sensed earlier, neither of them making any sound as they moved carefully through the area. She paused, making a few hand signals to her partner to inform him that the yoma were nearby and alerted to their presence.

"You didn't think your presence would remain undetected for very long, did you?" Hagan tossed the question in the direction of the yoma.

There was no response, which was hardly of surprise to Isyllia. However, the break in the early morning silence resulted in the slow awakening of the various pilgrims that had spent the night clustered around the now burned out fires. It seemed to her that the yoma intended to try and stay hidden in the crowd, something that just wouldn't be happening.

"We know where you are and how many of you there are." Isyllia spoke a few moments later as her hand crept up and grasped the hilt of her sword. "You can neither hide nor escape."

The murmurings began to grow around them as people tried to figure out what was going on. While the yoma might not be able to escape, there was still a chance that they would cause undo harm before they could be called out and struck down. Just as the thought crossed her mind, apparently Hagan was done waiting.

His eyes flashed to gold even as he unleashed his yoki, blinding her senses for a few seconds due to the sheer power he had unleashed. With all the limits removed and the yoki manifesting visibly in a swirling white vortex, it became visible how inhuman he could truly be. Even as she unleashed her own yoki, she realized that the visible manifestation of Hagan's yoki had been enough to spook the yoma into revealing themselves. The four yoma she'd sensed bolted from the anonymity of the camp out onto the open road nearby.

Hagan's yoki abruptly faded as he moved, his sword appearing in his hand as he charged after the yoma whom were attempting to escape. It was over almost before it began, detached heads thumping wetly onto the road. The yoma had died so quickly that one of them remained twitching for a few more heartbeats before finally going still for the last time.

Isyllia watched as Hagan flicked the purple icor from his blade before slowly sheathing his sword. He remained standing where he was as the murmurings grew a bit louder and the more adventurous of the pilgrims came over to look and even poke the now dead yoma.

"Company." Isyllia murmured in Hagan's direction a few minutes later as she heard then saw a group of soldiers marching in formation toward them. From the look of them, they were part of Rabona's regular garrison. Hagan said a few words to those clustered around him before moving over to join her, his expression calm as the soldiers began to disperse the crowd and start with cleaning up the bodies.

"I'm Captain Erik." One of the soldiers stepped forward and gestured to the two of them that they should follow him. "I have to ask that you accompany us."

Isyllia glanced at Hagan who then gave a nod that was more of a half bow in agreement. She found herself and Hagan surrounded by a few of the soldiers as they headed toward the city proper. By the time they reached the gate, the sun was fully risen and the city seemed bustling with activity. Their escort directed them into what looked to be a large storeroom inside the gatehouse.

"What do you think they want?" She asked when the two of them were finally alone.

"Hard to tell, but I doubt it's anything ill." He replied, touching a bit of stonework before turning back to her with a shrug then leaning against the wall facing the doorway.

After a few seconds of contemplation, she mirrored his gesture and choose to remain in silence. Whatever they wanted of them, it would become apparent soon enough. It wasn't like they were going to be keeping them here against their will, after all. The door wasn't going to even slow them down and the stonework would be only an inconvenience should either of them get the idea of going through it.

It proved to be a very boring wait.

She was just contemplating asking about leaving when the door opened to admit an older man and a younger man both of whom were dressed in priest robes. Accompanying them were a pair of well armed guards, with sharp looking uniforms and well used weapons. The guards posted themselves on each side of the door after closing it to ensure that the meeting would remain private.

"My name is Hagan and this is Isyllia." Hagan broke the silence and introduced the two of them to the newcomers. Isyllia nodded politely when introduced, her eyes shifting curiously between the two. "How may we assist you, Your Grace?" Hagan continued once introductions were complete.

The older man stepped forward and looked at Hagan's face closely for a moment, then stepped back and gestured to the other priest that had accompanied him. "I am Primate Baldwin Tatori, the head of the ruling council of Rabona." The older priest introduced himself then gestured to the younger priest with him. "This is my aide, Wilhelm. It is my understanding that the two of you eliminated a few yoma from outside our walls."

"Yes, Your Grace. That is correct." Hagan replied formally and Isyllia chose to remain in silence, letting him carry the conversation unless there was need for her to speak.

The Primate of Rabona pulled a golden and jeweled ring off of one finger and pressed it into Hagan's left hand. "Should you have need of anything, present this ring as a sign of my favor so that Rabona may one day assist you as you have assisted us."

Hagan sketched a half bow of acquiescence even as he closed his hand over the ring that he'd just been presented. "Thank you, Your Grace."

The older priest gave Hagan another close look before turning and leaving the room, followed by the guards that had accompanied them.

"Wilhelm, how is mother?" Hagan asked the younger priest before he could leave the room.

The younger priest turned and looked at him. Isyllia suddenly realized that the two of them looked quite alike, something that eluded her until now. "She passed a few years ago, the sleeping sickness." The priest shrugged but Isyllia could sense his sadness. "You look well, Hagan." He added as he reached out and patted the other on the shoulder.

Hagan reached up and patted the hand on his shoulder. "So do you."

The priest nodded then withdrew his hand before turning to Isyllia. "Take good care of my brother, would you?" He asked, drawing a jerky nod from her before the priest left the two of them alone in the room.

* * *

"In this, the fourth year of their service, we have decided that it is time for the first generation to be retired and the second generation brought into service." The senior elder began, reading from a paper before him. "With a full two-thirds of the first generation having become awakened beings, we the elders feel that it would be unacceptable for the first generation to continue in service.

"The second generation will be deployed starting today, having no longer showing such sensitivity to both environment and other factors. In the future, there will no longer be any Winter Calm as the Warriors of the Organization will be remain in the field from the start of their service until death. Selection of candidates for the third generation will begin next month."

Azmear couldn't believe what he was hearing but yet somehow it didn't surprise him. The elders hadn't shown much grasp of reality the entire year so there wasn't much reason for them to be starting now. The elder put down the paper and looked up to make eye contact with him. "Azmear, as the senior Black Robe in service; you will pass along our instructions to the others. Once all members of the first generation have been recalled, they will be terminated due to the risk that they pose not only to the Organization but to the people of this continent. The remaining twenty three members of the first generation will be "

And just like that, the ball in his stomach turned to lead. "I will see it done." Azmear did the only thing he could: he bowed formally then backed out of the room.

As he turned to head to his office, his mind was already turning. Plotting and planning. He knew without a doubt that the elders had just made what could be the biggest mistake in this history of the Organization. There had to be something he could do, but what?

And then it hit him. He'd need a few things to pull it off, however.

As he neared his office, he caught sight of one of the numerous scribes. "Come with me." He directed the other, opening the door and stepping inside. He gestured for the scribe to come inside then closed the door behind him. "I want you to get three sets of male and female clothing from the supply room and put them in a large burlap bag. Once you've done that, bring it back here immediately. Don't write anything down or tell anyone what you're doing."

He young scribe nodded in obvious nervousness and disappeared out the door while Azmear seated himself at his desk. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and took out both a sheet of paper and the pen he kept there. The paper was designed to last forever and the ink wouldn't fade. He looked thoughtfully at the paper and after a moment began to write.

_Hagan and Isyllia,_

_By the time you're reading this, I can confidently say that I'm probably dead. Most likely at the hands of the leaders of the Organization for disobeying their orders. I've been given orders that the remaining members of the first generation are to be recalled and executed, an order that I can not in good conscience follow. As such, I've made preparations to hide the two of you where the Organization can not find you easily._

_However, that's not all of it. I also have reason, good reason, to believe that the Organization is itself behind the yoma that roam the continent. That they're creating the yoma and using them to control the populace. To think that they've been doing this practically under our noses the whole time._

_I've left this message in a safe place and I only hope that you'll be able to finish what we've started._

_-Azmear._

He pulled a small golden jewelry box out of the bottom drawer, carefully folding the paper in half before putting it inside. He closed the jewelry box and turned the latch so it would stay closed. He put the pen back in the drawer where it had been before then hid the jewelry box inside his robes. He then wrote a quick note addressed to the other Black Robes repeated the instructions of the elders to have the remaining members of the first generation recalled.

He looked up at a knock on the door and the young scribe he'd sent off earlier came into the office with a large burlap sack clutched in his hands. "Just leave that right there." He instructed the scribe as he held out the paper in his hand to him. "See that this gets distributed." The scribe dropped the sack and took the paper from him, bowing awkwardly then closing the door behind him.

Azmear stared at the closed door for a moment then got to his feet. A part of him expected that he'd never see this room again and perhaps that was correct. Azmear picked up the burlap sack then headed out the door to meet with Hagan and Isyllia.

"Why did you want to meet up here?" Hagan asked as Azmear stepped into view. The three were meeting up outside of Dalmor, a change that they'd only found out about when they'd been on the way back home.

"I had to make a side trip." Azmear thumbed over his shoulder toward the village then tossed the burlap sack he'd been carrying the entire way to Hagan. 

Hagan caught the sack and opened it to look inside curiously. "What's this for?" He asked passing it over to Isyllia, who did likewise before handing it back.

"I'll explain along the way." Azmear replied, turning and leading the two away from the village.

Azmear had done his best to explain what was going on as he understood it. By the glances the pair were exchanging, he suspected that they understood perhaps more than he was telling them. It had been a very long walk to the hidden valley that he'd found some time ago. It wasn't on any map and the path up to it had been almost completely concealed. Irregardless of what happened to him, as long as the pair kept a low profile, the Organization wouldn't be able to find them.

Their long walk had ended in the heart of the valley at a copse of trees near a small waterfall. They'd have to make everything but he was confident that they'd be more than able to take care of themselves. "I'll come get you when I'm sure it's safe for you come back." Azmear tucked his hands into his sleeves. "I'll see what I can do about changing their minds."

He reached out and patted them in turn on the shoulder. "I'll see you again soon." He said then turned away, planning on taking a rather long and meandering way back to the Organization.

Isyllia looked over at Hagan, who's eyes remained fixed on where Azmear had vanished. "We're not going to see him again, are we?" 

Hagan shook his head then closed his eyes. "No, they'll likely kill him for what he's done. To set an example if for no other reason." He knelt down and took a set of clothing from the bag then passed it to her before getting another for himself. "But he's right, they'll need us again someday. So we'll need to keep training and be ready for that day when it comes."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes

Several people have noted to me that the atmosphere in the first portion of Beginnings is different than the one that they have observed in the series, in either the manga or the anime version. The reasons for this are rather simple yet profound: the fear that is so prevalent in the series does not yet exist.

Yoma are in this time and place more like boogeymen than the true demons as we see them later portrayed. Yoma are treated more like serial killers: something to be concerned over yet not something that causes you to lock your doors and hide in your closet. For a town to call in a Claymore would be equivalent to the local police asking for military intervention.

The time period that we see in the first portion of Beginnings is several generations before the series itself. General knowledge of Yoma is rather limited and ordinary humans still make the effort to control them on their own, as we see in the group of soldiers that hunted down the Yoma that killed off Isyllia's family. Awakened Beings are an even newer phenomenon, and the Organization herself still grapples with how to deal with the problem.

The Claymore herself, and in some cases himself, are a welcome aid rather than viewed with suspicion. They are at this time viewed as a solution rather than part of the problem. While the majority of the first generation will have turned into Awakened Beings and the premature deployment of the second generation will only serve to exacerbate the situation as many of them are ill prepared for the challenges ahead. This is most apparent in how young Riful appears when she herself became an Awakened Being.

The second portion of Beginnings moves forward in time to a point that we see portrayed in the canon material. The story picks up at the Invasion of Pieta and the death of Rigaldo at the hands of number forty seven. The ending presented is an alternate one, completely different from the ending most readers will be familiar with.

It is my intention to present a "what if" to an already rich universe. It is a story where the human spirit can triumph over the inhuman and that peace can be found even in the midst of the chaos.


End file.
